


hope and fear, i think there is a pattern here

by summerdayghost



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Criminals, First Kiss, Homophobic Language, Identity Porn, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Latino Johnny Storm, Latino Peter Parker, M/M, Miscommunication, Racist Language, one instance for both of the previous tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdayghost/pseuds/summerdayghost
Summary: As far as Johnny was concerned the notorious Spider was nothing compared to that Peter Parker, girlfriend stealing menace. The facts that Peter has no clue what Johnny is talking about when Johnny calls him out for it and that Johnny sort of sees the appeal do not make things better.Or an au where Peter Parker chose to be a villain instead





	hope and fear, i think there is a pattern here

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally be posting this!!
> 
> The art was done by the most groovy Sci, and I cannot thank them enough for it (I'm still happy screaming on the inside). Go check them out on tumblr! Their username is sciderman
> 
> So without further ado…

Johnny was a good kid.

Of course most good kids did not spend their Friday nights following strange men up buildings, but most good kids weren't superheroes either.

He enjoyed his doing this whole superhero thing, he really did. The Fantastic Four not only was his family but it was now a way to help people. To help the planet.

He loved having powers with all of his heart. Well, his powers specifically, he would not want Sue’s invisibility or Reed’s stretchiness or Ben’s… rocky curse that at times seemed to be more of a misfortune than a power if we’re being honest.

The spotlight was nothing to complain about for it had done wonders for Johnny’s self-esteem. Ben constantly reminded him that his ego probably didn't need to be blown up any more than it already was, but what did Ben know? Ben was just a guy. A guy that knew Johnny better than almost anyone but just a guy still.

The helping people and the fame part all really made the occasional nightmares about the near death experience in space it took to acquire these powers almost nearly sort of worth it. They would probably be gone soon anyway. Replaced with new nightmares. That's what happened to his old nightmares anyways.

However this was a definitely downside to it all. The superheroics Johnny preferred doing when acting alone were more closely related to directly assisting people. Taking cats down from trees, saving reporters from falling off tall buildings (why reporters were always being thrown from buildings is one the many questions Johnny had about the universe), and all the usual fare.

When it came to actually going against villains he preferred to have his family by his side. Sue had been protecting him for longer than he could remember. Reed was smart and Johnny knew he could count on the man to have a plan on most occasions. Ben was, well he was Ben. There was something about the very essence of Ben that was soothing to Johnny.

They all made him feel safe in different senses of the word. Sue made him feel safe like a locked door or car keys between knuckles on a dark street. Reed made him feel safe in the logical sense like a seatbelt or an evacuation plan. Ben made him feel safe like a blanket or a fireplace.

Without the three of them supervillains were so much scarier.

When Johnny was an itty bitty tiny little boy he spent his time constantly filled to the brim with fear. This was as natural to him as breathing. Life had always been that way. The fear hadn't completely eased by the time he was seven years old and finally in his sister’s custody.

She was around twenty-three or twenty-four at that point, technically old enough to be his mother but still so young, and Johnny’s still not sure how she dealt with all to this day. Maybe he would never know.

One night about a week or so into living with Sue (and Reed and Ben but at that point the Sue part was the most important, it would take a few weeks to understand that her husband and their friend were family) after he had a brief spell of tears over the concept of darkness she wrapped him up in her arms and said this to him, “Do you know why some things make us afraid?”

He sniffled, “Because those things are scary.”

If Johnny had been feeling more outspoken and less vulnerable right then he might have added a “duh” to the end of that sentence.

She shook her head gently as he looked up into her face, “Fear is a warning sign so that we don't get hurt.”

That answer was good enough for Johnny and he would have been content with just that alone but she continued on, “Most often when we are afraid it's because there is something about what we are afraid of that we just don't know. Our brains don't like not having information so they jump to worst case scenarios. Please understand that those scenarios are not always or even usually the most likely thing to happen. It’s okay to not know things.”

Sue squeezed him a little tighter at that and tucked his head under her chin.

A decade later most of the fears Johnny still had left were intangible concepts that he could not describe well enough for there to be unknowns which was much less paradoxical than it sounded he would swear, but supervillains without Reed, Sue, and Ben certainly applied to that philosophy.

With Sue, Reed, and Ben around he never minded not knowing things.

Well, actually that last sentence was a bold faced lie. He hated the way they could make him feel so utterly dumb sometimes.

But he could take some comfort in the fact that they made the unknown somewhat more accessible. Without them that comfort was gone.

There was so much Johnny did not know about supervillains. Any supervillain.

The villain he was tracking at the moment, the Spider, was a good example of that unknown.

Who was the Spider? No one knew. Well, Reed thought that there had to be people that knew and just weren't saying anything but that did not really help them much, did it?

They knew his height which was a tad bit shorter than the average man and that he was a he. They knew that he was either a native New Yorker or exceptionally good at faking the accent. It was not a New York accent based off of television, that was for sure.

But those were things that literally everyone that had ever encountered the Spider knew about him.

What were his powers? Another thing no one was sure of.

The Spider was definitely strong, but so far had not demonstrated anything beyond your average strong man, so there was plenty of online debate as whether that was a superpower or the result of intensive training.

He was intelligent. That was clear from the plans he concocted and the engineering feats he achieved. Several of his heists seemed to have the sole purpose of proving that he was more intelligent than… look it was difficult to keep track of squabbles between supervillains as it was. It got even more difficult when they were actively trying to hide the squabbles from you and your friends specifically.

Of course there was even more debate as to if this intelligence was a superpower or not. While people with super smarts as their mutation certainly existed there were far more of them that had some other power and just happened to be smart as well.

Were they even sure the Spider had powers? To be entirely frank, no. Not at all. But there was something about the way he fought that they could not put a name to or figure out that made it uncertain if he was normal either.

Why did he do the things he did? Well, why did any of the supervillains do the things they did?

Johnny legitimately could not understand why someone when gifted with either mutations, superpowers, or extreme natural talent would use those gifts for evil. Johnny could not understand even for the ones they had a backstory on (which they did not for the Spider).

One thing that was known about the Spider was why he was called that, but that did not really garner any information on him. He was named by The Daily Bugle, a New York City newspaper known for an unpredictable mixture of muckraking tabloids and actually amazing accomplishments of honest journalistic endeavors (which thus gave way to the problem of readers taking their garbage news too seriously and their real news not seriously enough). In turn the staff member of The Daily Bugle that named him was like an intern or a junior cub photographer or something like that who said he suggested the name “because it sounded cool”.

Johnny was hovering beside the skyscraper the Spider was sitting on when he heard him say, “I thought you of all people would know that stalking is rude.”

Johnny kept quiet hoping that the Spider was just talking to himself because villains did that sometimes, right? He had seen the Green Goblin talk to himself at least once before.

The Spider said louder, “I know you're there, little firefly.”

There was no sense in trying to hide anymore. Despite there being no sense it in it was still what Johnny wanted to do.

Johnny fought his instincts, floated a little higher, and pulled himself onto the roof, “How did you know I was following you?”

The Spider’s eyes were obscured by the mask but Johnny could feel the Spider roll his eyes on a spiritual level, “You were just so obvious about it.”

Johnny was moving closer to him while grumbling, “I thought I was being stealthy.”

The Spider did not laugh although he was clearly amused, “Do I have to remind you that fire is a light source, Human Torch?”

Johnny tried his best not to blush.

The Spider continued, “I mean I knew you were following me before you ignited because to be completely and brutally honest, you’re bad at following people. My plans for tonight did not originally involve this building. I only came up here to see how far you were willing to go.”

“And how far is that?”

The Spider shrugged, “I could have gone farther myself but then again I am not typically noticed by the person I’m supposed to be stalking.”

The Spider had gotten a lot closer than Johnny had realized, and they were a lot closer to the ledge than Johnny had realized as well, “I thought you said stalking was rude.”

A slight wrinkle in the Spider’s mask indicated a smirk, “It is. Now, let’s test your reflexes flamebrain.”

Next thing Johnny knew he was tumbling towards the concrete below and boy he really should have seen that coming. He managed to save himself because if anything, flaming on was easier when he was panicked, but when he got back to the top of the building the Spider was gone.

***

Dorrie’s decision to dump Johnny was mystifying to him. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

They were happy together. Well, their relationship was not all smooth sailing, she would nag him a lot but that was what Johnny understood to be normal. Discounting all the nagging Johnny felt they were wonderfully and extraordinarily happy together. The tabloids didn't know what they were talking about.

But maybe the tabloids did know what they were talking about because Dorrie did just end their relationship.

Sure, Dorrie explained her reasons as clearly as she possibly could while she broke up with him, but Johnny had been listening to respond and not to understand. Sue, Reed, and Ben had all told him at separate points that this was a terrible habit for confrontations but he had never really made an effort to fix this flaw of his. He never knew it could end up biting him in the ass like this.

Funnily enough one of Dorrie’s reasons was his poor listening skills when it came to disagreements and debates. It was the last thing she listed before she stormed off.

Dorrie’s first reason was that she could not deal with the jealousy. Every time she went to the grocery market she saw headlines of Johnny with some new girl on his arm.

He of course argued that those photos were taken out of context. He happened to interact with a lot of girls, sure, but he was not the player he was made out to be. He only had room for one girl in his life and that girl was Dorrie.

As a side note he mentioned how odd it was that he only seemed to be taken out of context with the girls. There were plenty of photos involving him interacting with boys that could just as easily be taken out of context.

She did not find that comment amusing and segwayed into her second point about how with his celebrity status and his obligations to being a member of the Fantastic Four that he simply did not have enough time to dedicate to her and she often felt neglected.

He felt that he spent plenty of time with her and that they had a whole future ahead of them to spend together. Like once they got married and stuff. She was his first girlfriend but he fully intended to marry her one day. To be happily married one day was something he wanted badly and he saw dating as a stepping stone to that.

Those two reasons seemed like things that she could adjust to in time.

“Baby, is that all?” Johnny pleaded.

“Uh…” it was clear that she was going to stall from the moment she opened her mouth, “No that's not all.”

Johnny leaned back and waited to hear it.

“There's…” her eyes were shifting around the room, “There’s someone else!”

“What's his name?” he asked.

She bit her lip in thought.

“Her name?” he added thinking maybe that might be the true root of it.

She shook her head, “No, no. It's a boy. His name is, um, Peter… Parker.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and muttered, “Sure Jan.”

Dorrie was familiar with the dated meme attached to that statement and was offended by that remark, “Peter’s real!”

“Fine,” he said not quite believing her, “What does this ‘Peter’ look like?”

She was not looking at Johnny instead opting to look slightly above him, “Uh, brown wavyish hair, brown eyes but with glasses, uh, tan skin, y’know, boricua-”

Johnny had to stop her right there, “No way.”

Her arms were folded behind her back, “What?”

“There is nothing remotely Spanish about the name ‘Peter Parker’.”

It was also about the fakest sounding name he had ever heard.

She shrugged, “I mean your name is Johnny Storm. How Spanish is that?”

Touché.

“What does he do?”

Dorrie squinted, “Do?”

Johnny smiled thinking that maybe he had finally caught her in her lie, “Everyone does stuff. No one does nothing.”

“Oh,” Dorrie sighed, “Well, he reads a lot, boy always has an armful of books on him as well as a full backpack, and is really into science class. He works for The Daily Bugle.”

“What would The Daily Bugle want from him?” Johnny asked.

She ran a hand through her hair, “He's the one who takes all of their pictures of the Spider for them.”

Not immediately and arrogantly shouting “Aha!” was difficult for him but he still managed to instead say, “I thought the person who took The Bugle’s photos of the Spider was a girl named Sally.”

“Yeah, it was her too,” Dorrie paused, “But then she died, horrible accident, boyfriend driving recklessly. So it is just him now.”

The awkwardness that filled the atmosphere indicated that Dorrie did not make up the story she just told about the death of this girl.

May Sally Rest In Peace, Johnny hardly knew her. Well he didn't know her at all, he just saw her name on a byline once or twice. But Dorrie probably knew her which was not fun to speculate about.

“Uh,” he struggled to come up with the next reasonable question, “What's he like?”

Dorrie raised her eyebrows, “Huh?”

“Y’know,” Johnny clarified, “What is his personality? Does he even have one?”

“Well, he’s smart, as indicated by the reading and the science. Top tier geek.”

He couldn't help but blurt out, “Were the Buffy and Star Trek marathons not geeky enough for you?”

He had forced her to watch and rewatch his shows with him an embarrassing amount of times. Most often it was Buffy reruns. That was mostly because there was simply, in her words, “too much” Star Trek for her to reasonably handle, and David Lynch weirded her out too much for her to be willing to watch more than three episodes of Twin Peaks. It was okay, Johnny found himself identifying with Buffy more and more ever since he had gotten his powers.

“Yeah but,” she paused, “you’re cool.”

Johnny blinked, “And you want to be with someone who is not cool.”

Dorrie made a noncommittal shaking gesture with her head that was neither yes nor no, “He might not be cool, but he's kind and respectful and sensitive.”

“And I’m not?”

Dorrie winced, “No.”

That stung, “How do you know it's not just an act to get into your pants?”

She flared up, “He wouldn't do that!”

Needless to say the conversation went downhill from there.

***

Ben and Sue were sitting at the kitchen table reading.

Ben had that morning’s edition of The Daily Bugle with the Spider’s photo splashed all over the front page. Sue meanwhile was going through and annotating The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan with a blue pen and a yellow highlighter.

Johnny entered the kitchen, “Hey guys, what should you do if a girl dumps you?”

Sue did not look up from her work, “Respect her decision.”

Ben turned the page in his newspaper, “Yeah. Do that.”

That was not exactly what Johnny wanted to hear, “But-”

“No buts about it,” Sue declared.

Ben glanced at Johnny from over his paper, “Dorrie probably had a good reason.”

“How-” Johnny scrunched his eyebrows, “How did you know that Dorrie broke up with me?”

Sue grabbed a red pen from across the table, “Would there be any other reason for you to be asking us this?”

Johnny made a slight whining noise in his throat, “She left me for another guy.”

Reed’s neck stretched down the hall and into the room, “What's going on?”

Sue answered, “Dorrie dumped Johnny.”

“And I don't know what to do about it,” Johnny added.

Maybe Reed would give him an actually viable option.

“Oh,” Reed swiveled his head more towards Johnny, “Respect her decision.”

Guess not then.

***

Johnny had found that flying was the easiest way to clear his head. It was peaceful up there, a great place to be alone.

Sure Johnny was not the only person out there who could fly, but he rarely ran into the others.

He had only collided into Iron Man once so he considered that a victory. It was better than being sucked into a jet engine (which was a thing Sue was actually worried could happen to him but that was ridiculous because he didn't wear a cape).

The only problem with flying to find relaxation was that depending on the chosen altitude a person could see everything going down below them. A person could easily find trouble.

Johnny had just found trouble.

From his height he could not make out much detail but he could still tell that someone was getting beaten to a bloody pulp in an alleyway.

As he got closer to the ground he realized the attacker was none other than the Spider. Oh, wonderful. Just the person Johnny wanted to see.

He landed directly behind the action, back ramrod straight and hands on his hips, “Hey, Spider! Pick on someone your own size.”

The Spider dropped the man he had been holding from the front of the man’s shirt to the ground and looked at Johnny, “I don't know if you can tell with the condition he's in but he is actually bigger than I am.”

Johnny opted not to respond to that and instead lunged at the Spider tackling him to the ground.

The Spider sounded unfazed despite their current position, him flat on his back with Johnny laying directly on top of him their faces dangerously close, “You’re also a little bit taller than me so maybe I should really be saying that to you.”

Okay fine. Maybe the quip was poorly thought out.

And maybe Johnny did not accept that fact very gracefully but hey it had been a long day.

Johnny flamed on, “Shut up.”

The Spider winced in pain and started wrestling him away.

Once the Spider was finally out from under him but still on the ground he said, “Oh look, he got away. Nice going flamebrain.”

“You were going to kill him,” Johnny tried to grab the Spider but he jumped up.

The Spider was leaning back against the wall, “Probably, yeah.”

Johnny threw himself off of the ground and towards the Spider but the Spider spun out of his reach leaving him slamming into a wall, “That's senseless.”

The Spider raised his arm, “Have you ever considered that maybe I hurt the people that I hurt for a reason?”

Before Johnny could respond a rope shot out of the Spider’s wrist and latched onto the edge of a tall building. The rope began coiling itself back into the Spider’s wrist pulling the Spider up with it.

Johnny tried to fly after him but the Spider kept repeating the motion and swinging from building to building.

The Spider ended up losing him rather quickly.

Johnny thought back to what the Spider had said, “Have you ever considered that maybe I hurt the people I hurt for a reason?”

Yeah, and Johnny was pretty sure reason was because he was fucked up.

***

It had been two days since Dorrie dumped him. Two days seemed like a good amount of time to give her space for. A good amount of time to let her cool off. Plus he still didn't believe in the existence of Peter Parker, so he tried to call her only to find she had changed her number. She had also blocked him on all social media (and convinced her friends to block him as well).

Going to Midtown High and waiting around the area he assumed to be her locker judging from her Instagram (well what he saw of it before he was blocked by everybody) seemed like the next best option.

Johnny wasn't sure what noticed about the boy first: his hair, his glasses, or his sweater.

The boy- maybe boy wasn't quite the right word. He looked approximately the same age as Johnny. At seventeen Johnny sure didn't feel like a boy.

Although whenever he pointed this out Reed would give him a knowing look, Sue would smile and say, “Of course you’re a man, niño”, and Ben would ruffle his hair.

This was fair Johnny supposed. He certainly was not quite an adult yet either.

However Johnny the only other epithet Johnny could think of to describe this other person based off of sight was ‘the nerd’ and that felt too mean spirited for his tastes (even if words like nerd, dork, and geek were mostly used in a self labeling or affectionate context nowadays). Boy would have to suffice for the moment.

The boy had messy brown hair. It was most definitely not of the ‘I spent two hours to achieve this sexy I don't care look’ variety. Johnny had enough personal experience with that style to be able to know it when he saw it. It took him a few weeks to realize that it really was not the look for him except maybe on special occasions, he would have realized this sooner if he would have just listened to Reed but what did Reed know about hair.

No, the boy’s messy hair was of the less aesthetically appealing ‘I legitimately don't care’ variety. Johnny could not tell if it was straight or wavy (although he was leaning much more towards wavy) the boy’s hair was so disheveled.

It brought images of pacing and sleepless nights and terrific stress even though there were other plausible causes for a such a terrible ailment as messy hair.

He wore glasses and it made Johnny remember an observation Dorrie had pointed out to him about terrible people and glasses. All of the famous serial killers and rapists and generally fucked up people wore glasses. He thought she had came up with this out of nowhere until she whipped out her phone and pulled up like a million photos.

John Hinckley Jr. who attempted the assassination of then President Ronald Reagan as a ploy to win the love and attention of Jodie Foster. Jeffrey Dahmer who killed seventeen men and boys in absolutely gruesome ways wore glasses. The famous eyewitness sketches of the Zodiac killer depicted him as wearing glasses. There were more examples.

Later he had asked Sue if she also found that odd. She thought it was a coincidence.

Johnny was not sure why that train of thought had come in or where it even came from. It was certainly unfair to the boy. There was nothing about him indicative of any sort of extreme wickedness.

Also the rapist glasses, as Dorrie had called them despite them being more common among murderers than sex offenders (not to suggest that there was not any overlap between those two groups), tended to be of a more aviator style. The boy’s glasses were certainly of a different kind altogether.

They were black and impossibly round. Round enough that Johnny entertained images of the cartoon owls those glasses were surely actually made for. A more than noticeable piece of tape was holding them together at the nose, as if they had been snapped at that point, and Johnny was pretty sure he had only seen that sort of thing in terribly cliched fiction before.

He wondered what had happened to the boy’s glasses. Was the boy particularly clumsy and broke his glasses tripping over his own feet? Despite himself Johnny found the mental image adorable. He blamed the romantic comedy genre’s obsession with making their leads clumsy ingraining it in his head as an endearing trait and moved on.

Perhaps there was a bully of the type found in the very same cliched movies that featured glasses tape. Probably on the football team and probably freakishly tall. Mean for the sake of being mean.

Perhaps this bully snatched that glasses off of the boy’s face. He held them far above the boy’s head as the boy jumped with futility trying to reach them with the added disadvantage of flawed vision. When the bully finally got bored because those sorts always get bored he snapped the glasses in half as a final mockery. At least he did not crush the lenses as well. That was a small mercy in the eyes of the boy.

Honestly the shape of the glasses combined with the tape to scream “nerd”.

The boy wore an old sweater that completely obscured his shape by virtue of being at least two sizes too big for him. It was old and scruffy enough that Johnny wasn't entirely sure if the sweater was intended to be black or if it was a really dark version of some other color like blue. The sweater was mostly likely a hand-me-down from a bigger and more athletic cousin or older brother.

Adding to the aesthetic, if it could be even charitably called that, were the slightly darker splotches all over the sweater but mostly around the boy’s sides. They were splotches that made it look like those spots were soaked through with some sort of liquid that kept that appearance after drying. Tiny white speckles indicated that the boy had made sloppy attempts to remove stains before.

The boy was cradling several, too many, textbooks in his arms and coming towards Johnny fast. One locker away from where Johnny was standing the boy began spinning the dial on a lock.

Before he knew what was doing Johnny already said, “Hey.”

Johnny did not know what had gotten into him. There was no real reason to talk to the boy, but he felt like he should. It had only been a few seconds but it felt as if already knew him from somewhere.

The boy opened his locker door as he turned to face Johnny. There was a panicked look in his brown eyes. It was admittedly difficult to see under his glasses but it was definitely there.

Could this boy be a fan of his? The idea made Johnny very happy. He was still unused to having fans, and even though he had met so many by this point each and every one of them felt like a novelty.

The boy shut his eyes for a moment and when they were open again the frantic panic was replaced with a cold calmness, “Who are you?”

He smiled, “Johnny Storm.”

The boy put a few of but not all of his books into his locker, “Have we met before?”

“No.”

The boy seemed to be repressing a smirk but Johnny was sure that was just his imagination, “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

Johnny stood up straight, “I’m the Human Torch. You know, of the Fantastic Four.”

The boy shook his head, “Sorry. I don't really follow a lot of mainstream music.”

Oh great. Not only was Johnny wrong about him being a fan, the boy was probably some form of hipster.

“Not in a band,” he muttered. It wasn't a bad idea though now that Johnny thought about it.

He could be the lead singer and guitarist because, Sue could play the keyboard because she had taken all those piano lessons when she was little, Ben could be the drummer because that was obvious, and Reed could be their manager-

No. That would be absolutely ridiculous.

Besides, he’d never be able to get them to agree to it anyways.

Desperate to get on a new footing Johnny asked, “What's your name?”

The boy closed his locker door, “Peter Parker.”

Could it be the Peter Parker that Dorrie was talking about? It couldn't be, could it?

Johnny ran a mental checklist in his mind.

Brown wavy hair? Definitely for the brown part and definitely maybe for the wavy part. Brown eyes? Yep. Glasses? Most certainly. Puerto Rican? Looking at Peter that seemed about right. Photographer? It was possible. Smart? Well he was carrying around a bunch of textbooks but every public high school student did that. Geeky? If the glasses were anything to go by, yes. Not cool? That would be Johnny’s best guess. Kind? Respectful? Sensitive? The jury was still out on those three.

Johnny’s hand smacked a locker door earning a look of general concern from Peter and a wince from himself. Maybe he did not have to do that, on second thought, but how else could he have marked this terrible epiphany?

“You stole my girl!”

He didn't care that he was yelling in the public space of a relatively uncrowded, by public school standards, hallway. So what if people turned their heads to stare at the situation. They would turn their heads back to whatever they were doing previously within a few seconds. The worst thing that could happen would be that Johnny could be recognized, but that was not all that bad to Johnny. He liked it when that happened.

Peter blinked clearly taken aback, “Did I?”

Johnny’s eyes hardened not yet recognizing that Peter was just as bewildered as he had been when Dorrie had told him, “I don't know. You tell me. She broke up with me and told me that she’d found some new fella named Peter Parker.”

“Are you sure it was me and not some other Peter Parker?” He adjusted his glasses.

“Are you a Puerto Rican?”

Peter nodded, “Yes.”

“Do you take pictures of the Spider for the Bugle? Like as a job?”

Peter nodded again, “That's my job, yes.”

Johnny folded his arms as to prevent doing anything rash, “Then it’s you. You stole my girl.”

Peter scrunched his eyebrows, “How could that have happened?”

“I don't understand your appeal either,” that statement was both mean and partially untrue. Johnny could certainly see how someone might find Peter a little bit adorable, but he was too mad at the boy to fully admit it to himself.

“No, not that,” Peter shook his head, “I only just barely have friends sort of. How could I have unwittingly stolen someone else’s girlfriend?”

Johnny would not falter no matter how much his heart in that moment wanted him to, “You don't have friends.”

Peter hesitated for a moment, “I do, but I’m not doing the best job at keeping them. Actually this is the longest conversation I’ve had all week.”

Johnny was at a loss for words and Peter somehow managed to be both wistful and cold, “It's probably for the best. I don't want to get closer to any of them than I already am anyways.”

Under normal circumstances Johnny would try to unsubtly pry into the reasoning why Peter wouldn't let people in despite only knowing him for a couple of minutes, but he felt that Peter might not appreciate that and he was having a hard time coming up with something else to do.

Luckily for him Peter continued, “I don't think I even know who your girlfriend, well ex girlfriend, I guess, is.”

“Dorrie Evans,” Johnny said softly.

Peter bit his lip, “Well, I most certainly sat next to her in a science class once but she's an acquaintance at most.”

Johnny laughed beside himself, “You’re probably more than a simple acquaintance to her.”

“Wait,” he had his hands in his pockets, “Dorrie Evans. Isn't she gay?”

Before Johnny could begin to even try to respond to that a new voice joined the conversation, “Hey, Peter. Didn't see you at lunch today.”

Peter and Johnny turned towards the voice at the same time to see the source of the voice: a boy with short curly hair combed into place in a frankly outdated fashion. Johnny recognized the newcomer for some reason that he just could not put his finger on.

Peter responded to the boy that was growing more familiar to Johnny, “Oh, I was busy.”

The boy clearly did not believe Peter, “It’s just that the amount of days you’ve been busy have been steadily increasing.”

Peter shrugged, “Things come up, Harry. What can I say?”

Harry! Harry Osborn! That's who that boy was.

Johnny had met him on more than one occasion. Harry Osborn was the son of Norman Osborn who was the CEO of Oscorp. Yes, the Oscorp that had more money than King Midas could have produced in a lifetime.

Norman Osborn and his company’s feelings towards mutants and other superpowered individuals remained unclear even after the couple of meetings the Fantastic Four had with him for a variety of reasons so far.

Well more like the Fantastic Three. Sue, Ben, and Reed would talk with Norman Osborn while they would leave Johnny and Harry to hang out together. They usually ended up staring straight ahead, not looking at each other, in silence waiting for their respective adults to return from the discussion.

Harry was more than friendly. They definitely liked each other well enough and got along well enough. It was just that they would run out of things to say to each other quite quickly. Johnny hated the way grown ups just assumed that because two people were conveniently of the same age that they would automatically click.

He remembered someone mentioning that Harry went to a public high school, but he never thought it would be this one. Then again he didn't believe that person in the first place because they said Harry was going to a public high school because he had been kicked out of so many private schools that every remaining prestigious private school refused to admit him.

All of that didn't seem consistent with what he knew and understood about Harry Osborn so he dismissed it as gossip. Harry was a good kid.

But maybe there was a grain of truth to be had with that story.

Harry began to mess with the cuff of his sleeve, “Gwen and Mary-”

“You shouldn't mess with that,” Peter interrupted and Johnny didn't have the slightest clue what Peter could have been referring to but then again he was likely without context.

Harry looked down at his hands, “Oh,” he dropped his arms to his sides, “Thanks. Didn't notice I was doing that.”

“No problem. It's what I’m here for.”

“Not that you’re here often,” Harry said, from his volume Johnny guessed, more to himself than anyone else, “Gwen and Mary Jane have started a betting pool over whether we’ll see you at lunch.”

Peter smiled softly for a moment that Johnny felt was gone far too soon, “Who won today?”

“Mary Jane,” Harry stated missing the excitement people usually had when talking about victory, “She won fifty cents. Two quarters.”

Johnny decided it was time to finally contribute to and slash or invade this conversation, “Good for her. Money is money.”

From the look on Harry’s face it was crystal clear that he had not noticed him at all until that very moment, “Oh! Hi Johnny. How have you been?”

The truth was not ever what people wanted to hear when they asked that question but Johnny did not care, “My girlfriend dumped me a few days ago.”

Johnny couldn't decide if the sympathy in Harry’s voice and face was real or fake, perhaps it was both, “Oh how terrible. Do I know her?”

Johnny shrugged, “I dunno. She goes here. Girl by the name of Dorrie Evans.”

Recognition flashed in Harry’s eyes, “Dorrie Evans? Isn't she gay?”

“That's actually the second time I’ve heard that today,” not really wanting to discuss this further with Harry he asked, “How about you? How have you been?”

Harry chuckled, “I’ve been just fine. Right Pete-”

Nobody stood where Peter had been a minute ago at the most.

Harry sighed, “He does that a lot.”

“Well that's rude,” Johnny was pretty sure that all the judging he was doing in that moment could be seen on his face.

Harry’s hand was back at the cuff of his shirt, “He's becoming so withdrawn. If I didn't know better I would think he was trying to push everyone out.”

“Maybe that’s what he is trying to do,” Johnny suggested thinking back to Peter’s previous remarks even though he knew Harry didn't want to hear that.

“Maybe, the idea hurts and obviously I wouldn’t let him, but maybe,” and Harry sounded far away, “I’ve just been worrying about him a lot lately.”

Johnny and Harry ran out of things to say to each other at that point.

***

Johnny actually did see Dorrie later that day. It was just not in the context he had hoped.

Johnny flew up to the edge of the building. He thought he would go up alone to check out the situation. He was the one that could fly after all.

Reed, Ben, and Sue were down on the ground.

There was an odd smell that Johnny definitely recognized, but was not entirely certain of what it was.

“So you have come to rescue your sweet little forever faithful girlfriend?” The Spider was most definitely smirking.

Dorrie, who was tied to a chair, said something. Because she was gagged there was no telling what that something was.

The Spider untied the gag, “What was that oh Human Torch’s dearest sweetheart?”

She took a deep breath of sweet, sweet air, “Ex-girlfriend actually.”

Of all the things she could have said.

The Spider crouched down closer to her, “What was that? Did he let you go? Why would he ever leave a splendid creature such as yourself?”

Dorrie looked Johnny right in the eye (or at least where she approximated his eyes to be, the flames made it hard to tell so she was actually slightly off but it was the thought that counted), “I dumped him.”

“Oh,” the Spider straightened up, “Good choice. He's a loser. I’m sure there are plenty of other people out there for you that are better.”

Johnny knew he should not let an enemy calling him a loser effect him very much.

Just because he knew he should not did not mean that he knew how to keep himself from letting it effect him.

He hated himself for having such fragile self esteem. Well, he hated himself in general for reasons he could not comfortably pinpoint, but he did not ever let himself dwell on it for long enough to figure anything out.

Johnny couldn't think of anything to say.

The Spider laughed, “Let's see if dumping him didn't make him so mad that he wouldn't still save you.”

The Spider shoved the chair off the side off the side of the building which Johnny should have better anticipated. Well he knew that's where this would end up but he didn't- he didn't think it would happen so quickly. Villains typically liked to draw these things out.

Johnny dove down to try to catch her. She was almost in his reach when he noticed something and realized another thing.

The thing that he noticed was that the chair was wooden.

The thing that he was realized was that the familiar smell was the scent of gasoline.

That son of a bitch.

Luckily Reed seemed to realize what had happened the moment Johnny paused.

He stretched his back to an extraordinary height and caught Dorrie within a few feet in his arms.

Thank god for Reed.

When Johnny flew back up to the building for the Spider he was gone.

That seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them.

***

Watching the news that night they found out that while the Spider was holding Dorrie (and by consequence the attention of the Fantastic Four) hostage, the Green Goblin had bombed a supermarket.

This had to have been coordinated. It had to have been.

If the couch had not have been re enforced due to lessons they had learned previously from similar situations, Ben would was crushed the arm of it to dust.

Johnny would like to rescind his previous thought about the Spider being a son of a bitch.

A motherfucker is what he really was.

***

The next time Johnny saw Peter Parker he was standing across the street from the city bank. He seemed to be in a deep focus with a yellow legal pad in one hand and scribbling with a ballpoint pen in the other.

Peter did not notice when Johnny waved. He was just so focused on… whatever he was focused on. Johnny honestly wasn't sure what Peter was concentrating on, he was just staring straight ahead and jotting things down on his yellow legal pad.

Peter still did not notice Johnny’s waving even when he escalated the caliber to the waving to be more extreme, expressive, and, to be completely true, ridiculous. Johnny managed to shift from a hand motion to a full body motion.

Yet as far as Peter was concerned Johnny may as well have not been there at all.

Johnny really wanted Peter’s attention for reasons he could not quite fathom so he shouted, “Hey! Girlfriend stealer!”

The sound of a person that was perhaps a little too close in proximity to be yelling at him seemed to be enough to snap Peter out of whatever cloud he had his head in and back into the real world.

He looked around and the moment he laid eyes on Johnny he shoved his yellow legal pad to his chest.

[](https://ibb.co/NxdG8z5)

The motion’s Peter made with his mouth were as if he were trying to say something (probably “hello”) but no sound came out.

Johnny gestured to the yellow legal pad, “What you got there?”

“I did not steal your girlfriend!” Peter blurted out louder than Johnny had been getting his attention in the first place.

He was loud enough that a few people turned their heads towards them for a few seconds before immediately going back to their business.

That seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them.

“So you claim,” Johnny put his arm around Peter’s shoulder, “But I was asking about the thing you are holding to your chest.”

Johnny was in the process of reaching across Peter to grab the thing from him and just look at it for himself when Peter shrugged him off.

Perhaps shrugged was the wrong word. While that was definitely the physical action taken, it was done with the physical force appropriate to be coming from the shove of a strong man.

The action nearly caused Johnny to fall backwards. His sense of balance was the only thing that saved him.

Peter was definitely much stronger than a person would reasonably expect him to be judging by his build.

Seeing the taken aback expression on Johnny’s face Peter mumbled out an explanation, “Sorry. It was weird that you were touching me. I’m not like anti touching or anything like that but I don't know you.”

Johnny nodded, “Uh yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

He was not sure why he had done that. While it creating an easier vantage point to steal away the yellow legal pad from Peter was certainly a good portion of his motivation something inside of him insisted that there was another part of it as well.

It bugged him. It bugged him to the core.

Johnny placed a hand in his neck embarrassed, “But seriously dude what is that?”

Peter messed with his glasses a little bit, “What is what?”

Little brat knew exactly what Johnny was referring to and Johnny knew it, “The legal pad.”

Peter lifted the legal pad to his face for a moment before bringing it back to his chest, “Oh this? It's nothing.”

Johnny was trying not to grind his teeth, “It is not-”

Something flashed in Peter’s eyes, “Have you ever wondered why they are called that? You know, legal pads? Or why they are yellow? Have you ever wondered? Because I have. I have googled both of those things before, I am pretty sure of it, but I must have forgotten.”

Johnny’s body was starting to feel a little bit hotter and he knew he had to calm himself down. This was so silly. So petty.

“I mean what do you have written down on the legal pad?”

“I already told you, it's nothing,” Peter glanced back toward the bank for a moment.

“It's not nothing,” Johnny was far too emotionally invested at this point to be able to consider whatever it was nothing.

Unless, of course, if there was legitimately nothing there, unless the yellow legal pad was completely blank. But that would be impossible. Johnny was pretty sure he saw Peter write things down.

“Fine,” Peter rolled his eyes but the glasses made the effect it had on Johnny quite a bit different, “It's homework. Nothing you would care about.”

Johnny stood up a little bit taller, “I care about homework.”

Peter laughed, legitimately laughed, “No you don't.”

“You don't know me. You said it yourself. For all you know I do care about homework. Maybe I care a lot.”

Peter gave him a sideways glance. There was something plainly cute about it.

Johnny finally gave up, “Okay fine, I don't care about homework.”

“Knew it,” Peter smirked.

A girl that Johnny didn't notice walk up to them tapped Peter on the shoulder.

She was of Asian descent and had short black hair. She wore an adorable red shirt with a black collar and skinny jeans.

Her voice was quiet, “Hey have you done the…”

She trailed off when her eyes drifted towards Johnny.

Peter looked towards Johnny for a moment and then to the girl, “I am doing the homework right now.”

Johnny was not liking the way Peter put emphasis on the word “homework”.

The girl was staring at Johnny at this point.

Peter stepped closer to the girl, “Have you met Johnny?”

The girl shook her head.

Peter moved so as to not obstruct the other two’s view of each other, “Cindy Moon meet Johnny Storm. Johnny Storm meet Cindy Moon.”

Johnny and Cindy shook hands.

Cindy frowned, “Are you the Johnny Storm? Y’know Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four?”

Johnny smiled, “Yep that's me!”

Finally, someone that knew who he was! Wait.

“Why are you frowning?”

“Oh it's nothing. It's just,” she glanced back towards Peter, “I didn't realize you two knew each other.”

Peter shrugged, “We don't.”

At the same time Johnny said, “He stole my girlfriend.”

This time Peter did not shout but it was clear that he wanted to, “I did not steal his girlfriend.”

Johnny put a hand at the side of his mouth and stage whispered, “He stole my girlfriend.”

“I could believe it,” Cindy was smiling, “He certainly tried to steal mine once.”

“I absolutely did not,” there was a look of utter betrayal on Peter's face, “Don’t listen to her. That's out of context.”

Johnny shook his head, “Nah. I like her. Tell me your stories of Peter Parker, the girlfriend stealer, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Who was your girlfriend?” Cindy asked.

“Dorrie Evans.”

“Dorrie Evans,” Cindy scratched her chin, “Isn't she gay?”

***

The Spider was easy to find that night. All Johnny had to do was wander around Queens for a little while and he ran right into him.

He was sitting cross legged on the ground a few feet away from a dumpster reading a book, The Importance of Being Ernest by Oscar Wilde. Johnny had previously thought that was a play and not a book.

Johnny had also thought that the Spider hadn't noticed him until he said, “You can see that I am not currently committing any sort of crime at the moment so you can go on your way.”

That statement was technically true as far as Johnny could reasonably tell.

Johnny cut to the chase, “When did you become buddies with the Green Goblin?”

The Spider turned a page in his book, “I am not buddies with the Green Goblin. I am not anything with the Green Goblin. Don't insult me like that.”

“When you were trying to kill Dorrie the Green Goblin bombed a supermarket.”

“While there are certain benefits to collaboration,” the Spider closed his book, “the promise of future security being one of them, I was not aware that the Green Goblin had made plans for around that time, and I am sure he was equally unaware of my plans.”

Johnny had a hard time believing that.

***

Reed was at his work desk tinkering with or trying to fix something with a screwdriver.

“Hey Reed,” Johnny walked up behind him.

Reed continued with his work, “I’m a little busy right now Johnny.”

“I can see that,” because Johnny could see that, “but-”

Reed switched out the screwdriver with a wrench, “If I don't fix this within the next four hours our universe will merge with the one next door.”

Johnny shrugged, “I mean the universe right next door can't be all that different from our own, right?”

The way Johnny saw it, this would be a real catastrophe our universe merged with a universe far from our because they might all be apes or in an entirely different historical era.

He still remembered the zombie universe. He still questioned the decision to go there in the first place. Educational his ass.

The universe right next door was probably only a few tiny decisions away from their own.

Reed shook his head.

“What could be so radically different and unacceptable about the universe next door?” Johnny threw open his arms, a gesture unnecessary when the fact that Reed was not looking at him was taken into consideration, “Are pandas not as cute? Do our powers work a little differently? Are you and Sue-”

“My relationship status in universe six one seven is not important. Especially not to you,” Reed’s tone had more finality to it than it usually reached, “Trust me.”

If anything that made Johnny all the more curious about the love life of Reed Richards one universe away.

It was probably something boring. Reed and Sue were probably still dating or hadn't met yet or something. Maybe they were married like usual and Reed was just being weird about it.

No matter what Johnny knew there was no way it would be married to someone else interesting, but being told he shouldn't want to know just made him want to know.

Johnny would stay out of it… for now at least.

The only noise for a solid minute came from the thing on Reed’s work desk.

“So I-”

Reed looked directly at him for the first time in the whole conversation, “I assumed you had left already.”

“I actually came in here to ask a question.”

Reed raised an eyebrow a little bit too far reaching into the uncanny valley territory, “Haven't you already asked me questions?”

Johnny hesitated, “Well yeah, but not the question I came into here to ask.”

Reed returned to his work, “You know that I’m busy.”

“Yeah, but it's really simple. It’ll take a minute to answer.”

“I don’t-”

“It's a homework question.”

Something in Reed’s voice made Johnny feel like Reed was internally blaming Johnny for his grey hair (which would be… fair), “I will not do your homework for you.”

Johnny trying to get Reed or Sue (or once even Ben) to do his homework for him had been a problem in the past. To be honest it was likely to be a problem in the future.

“No, it's a question about homework in general, but it’s not a question on my homework,” Johnny clarified.

Reed sighed, “Fine. Go ahead.”

“Did you ever…” Johnny paused to find the right words, “do your homework on a yellow legal pad?”

Reed brought his face closer to the thing on his work desk and Johnny wanted to scold him for not wearing the proper lab safety goggles to do so until he realized that Reed actually was wearing the proper lab safety goggles, “What?”

Johnny repeated himself, “Did you ever do your homework on a yellow legal pad?”

“So I did not hear you wrong,” Reed switched out his wrench for another bigger wrench, “I don't know. Probably. That's a weird question. I mean there is no such thing as a bad question, but this is such a tiny detail that I don’t understand why it is worth pursuing.”

“I just thought it was weird.”

***

It was late, later than Johnny would usually be outside with no trouble to deal with.

Johnny did not recognize Peter and Harry from afar. Up closer, however, it was unmistakably them.

Harry looked relaxed, too relaxed. He was leaning so heavily against Peter’s shoulder Johnny was relatively certain that without Peter’s presence Harry would have fallen flat on his face on the hard concrete.

Peter, in comparison, was stone faced and walking forward at a brisk pace that Harry was clearly struggling to keep up with despite (or possibly because of) Peter doing most of the walking work for him.

Harry was babbling, “I just get so worried about you. I mean we all do. Me, Gwen, Mary Jane, Cindy, although she gets pretty banged up herself, Flash, I think, uh, me, probably some of our teachers, definitely our chemistry teacher, the one time I saw your boss at the Daily Bugle he seemed concerned, Cindy, Mary Jane, Gwen, and me definitely.”

Harry paused for a response that Peter did not give so he continued talking, “You have been so closed off recently. You always look like you haven't slept in three days. Even I know that is not good. Or like the bruises, man. You try so hard to hide them and in a way that makes them more obvious. Where do all the bruises come from? Where do all the burn marks come from?”

Burn marks? That was the part that truly caught Johnny’s curiosity. What sort of sick fuck left burn marks?

Well technically Johnny left burn marks on people but to be fair that was because he had self immolation powers.

Peter finally spoke, “We have been over this before. The bruises do not come from anywhere specific.”

Was he just not going to address the burn marks?

Harry began to move a hand towards Peter’s face but let it drop back to his side half way through the motion, “I hate it when you lie to me.”

Harry rolled his head up to glance at Peter’s face probably to check for any indication of breaking through to him. Of course Peter remained stoic.

Harry let his head roll back down, “Look there are better ways to deal with your problems then letting the Spider take advantage of you like-”

Peter started speaking before Harry could finish his though, “I wish you could understand how truly ridiculous your little conspiracy theory really is.”

Harry shook his head although it was difficult to tell from the angle, “It is seriously the only thing that makes sense. Like seriously.”

Peter said every word slowly as if to make sure Harry would understand, “I continue to maintain, just as I have every single other time you have brought this up, that I do not have a romantic or sexual relationship with the Spider. I do not even have a relationship with the Spider period.”

Harry might have laughed, Johnny wasn't sure, “He tells you to say that.”

“I do not have any sort of amorous connection with the Spider,” Peter sounded on the verge of being annoyed.

“There is so much evidence,” Harry sighed, “So much.”

“You only see so much evidence because you want there to be evidence. There is nothing going on,” Peter now sounded genuinely annoyed although his face still betrayed no emotion, “with the Spider or otherwise.”

Harry was silent for a few moments as if trying to determine if he should drop the topic or not, “I know you have been having a hard time since your aunt and uncle died, but there are better ways to deal with hard times.”

For the first time in the entire conversation Peter’s face twisted to show what he was feeling and what he was feeling was quite clearly anger, “Oh that is rich coming from you.”

Harry did not seem to notice the sudden display of emotion, “I understand what you are going through is like. I’ve been through it before. Well, I am not an orphan, I have living aunts and uncles none of which I am close to, and I can't imagine what it must be like in the foster care system. But I know what it's like to lose someone, I lost a mother. You can open up to me.”

Peter and Harry were coming up to where Johnny had stopped to eavesdrop and were about to pass him.

“Fine,” Peter stopped in his tracks causing Harry to nearly topple over, “You open up to me first, tell me why you did this, and don't play dumb and pretend you don't know what I’m talking about, and then I’ll talk about what's troubling me if you want me to so badly, Harry.”

It was at that moment that the two of them noticed the existence of another person, Johnny. Although it took them another moment to fully recognize him in the dark (Harry might not have recognized him at all judging by his mostly apathetic aura to his presence).

Peter locked eyes with him and his eyes sent a very specific message: Don't get involved.

So against Johnny’s better judgement he did just what Peter silently asked.

He did not get involved.

***

Johnny always found it disorienting and disconcerting to wake up in an unfamiliar place that he had most certainly not fallen asleep in. Anyone would.

He had fallen asleep in his room. This was most certainly not his room.

For one his room did not have people tied up on the floor. Nor did he usually spend time in his room tied to a chair. Usually.

Johnny tried to flame on to get rid of the ropes that bound him and found that he couldn’t. After several failed attempts he began to panic.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This never happened. This couldn't be happening.

Johnny heard a voice from behind him, “I took the liberty of dousing you with a good, healthy amount polybrominated diphenyl ethers. There is only a slight toxicity concern. I hope you don't mind.”

He would recognize that voice anywhere. It was the Spider.

“Where am I?” Johnny thanked goodness he was able to form full fledged coherent sentences while under pressure like this.

“Why, you’re inside a bank vault, honey.”

Johnny looked side to side, bank vault sounded just about right, “Wh-”

“Kraven and the Chameleon, those good old boys, are outside putting up a fight with the cops, and maybe your family too, I don't know if they’re gonna show up. Black Cat is sticking up the tellers and Silk is watching her back. And if anybody, any cop especially, comes in before Black Cat has finished her job and tries to stop her,” the Spider came up behind him and put a knife up against Johnny’s neck, “I’m supposed to use this to slit your pretty little throat ear to ear. How does that sound?”

[](https://ibb.co/syFRCmP)

Johnny laughed a little bit, he couldn't believe he was laughing, it must have been the nerves, “Terrible.”

The Spider put away the knife, “Then I’m supposed to move onto to every single one of them.”

It didn't need to be said but “them” referred to the people tied up on the ground. How many of them were there? Ten? Yeah, ten.

“How could you do this?”

The Spider walked around the chair so he was in front of Johnny and facing him, “This was all your idea, y’know.”

“Wh- what?” Johnny stuttered out.

There was no way. There was no way. There was no-

The Spider was twirling his knife, “I was gonna rob this bank alone, well I mean Silk knew about what I was doing but she wasn't gonna really be involved. But then you put ideas of cooperation in my head when you so cruelly accused me of consorting with the Green Goblin. I just had to get some people to help me. To exploit the power of friendship.”

The Spider sat down at Johnny’s feet, “We’ve got some time so let's talk. What do you want to talk about?”

Johnny remained silent.

“My supervillain origin story. How I got this way. Why I decided to turn to a life of crime,” the Spider leaned back against Johnny’s legs, “Okay. If you insist.”

Johnny had not insisted upon it because he had not said anything, but he definitely had an interest in this story.

The Spider stretched an arm across his chest, “My daddy was a cop. Greatest cop on the force. All of his coworkers loved him because he was such a great cop. Made the most arrests in the entire department. Hell, the entire city.”

The Spider stopped for a few moments as if trying to carefully select his words, “My daddy was also a heavy drinker. He loved his whiskey. He loved his beer, He loved his vodka. He loved his gin and tonic. He loved his whiskey and he loved his beer and he loved his vodka and he loved his gin and tonic more than he loved me. I don't have any memories of him sober. Maybe he never was sober.”

The description of the Spider’s father’s drinking habits were reminding Johnny of his own father. Maybe they had more in common than it seemed.

The Spider continued, “I don't know if he loved me at all. He surely didn't act like it. He loved my mother with all of his heart, and when she died giving birth to me I think his heart died with her. I can't remember a day when he didn't use me as a perfect little punching bag. But because he was such a good cop and all of his coworkers loved him so much nobody was willing to do anything about what my daddy was doing to me.”

Johnny did not want to feel any sympathy for a man such as the Spider, but this was pulling at his heartstrings, “That's horrible.”

The Spider was tracing his knife in tiny patterns on the floor and it was making the worst noise, “Tell me about darling. So in high school I met this boy, Jacky Casablanca, in my English class. Jacky Casablanca always forgot his textbook and I always had share my own with him. He would stumble over the words when reciting Shakespeare. Argentine accent. Fluffy hair. Goofy smile. Band tee shirts. Strong arms. Fast runner. Baseball team. Kind of an idiot like you.”

Johnny was willing to let that insult slide for the sake of not interrupting the story.

The Spider looked up towards Johnny’s face, “Do you know what I did?”

Johnny humored him, “What did you do?”

The Spider sighed in sweet reminiscence, “I fell for him. Hard. Jack Casablanca fell for me just as hard as I fell for him. He wasn't ready to admit it though. He when I confessed my feelings he responded by being mean to me. Him and his jock friends literally shoved me into a locker.”

Johnny blinked, “I didn't know that happened outside of really bad eighties teen movies.”

“Neither did I,” the Spider shook his head, “Neither did I. So it turned out that his daddy was just as mean as mine. His daddy knew that he was in love with me and he didn't want his son to be a little joto.”

Although Johnny couldn't speak Spanish he didn't have to guess what that last word meant. The context made it obvious enough.

The Spider started moving the knife between his fingers as if it was a baton and that could not have been safe, “So his daddy started hitting him harder. Hitting him more often. Anything to beat it out of him. When Jacky Casablanca finally confessed his love to me, us sitting on his bed, after he kissed me, he also told me this. He was crying and he was my first love so I didn't want him to feel bad anymore. I didn't want him to be scared anymore. That kiss had been my first kiss. So I grabbed his baseball bat and snuck into his daddy’s room. It was late at night. I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. I had only come over because Jacky Casablanca called and said it was urgent, his daddy had actually cracked one of his ribs.”

Johnny winced at that, “I know how that injury feels.”

That was only because the Spider had cracked one of his ribs during an earlier encounter.

The Spider nodded, “So I get to his room and what do I find but the man sitting up drinking. It reminded me of my own daddy. Perhaps that's why made it so easy. He didn't know what was coming. I hit him and I just kept hitting him. He had a head when a started but by the time I finished he had red mush with fragments of skull. Jacky Casablanca heard the commotion and ran into the room. He watched me finish up and it made him very happy. Excited too in a way. He was very pleased with me. Jacky Casablanca so pleased with me that he laid me down on the bed and took my virginity.”

That certainly took a turn.

“In the same room as his father’s corpse?” Johnny squeaked out.

“Yes. Of course. Where else could we have done it?” and the question sounded so innocent in tone when one forgot to consider the context.

Johnny wanted to scream, “LITERALLY ANYWHERE ELSE!” but he chose to remain silent instead.

The Spider continued with his story, “The problem was is that the police officer sent to investigate the murder of Jacky Casablanca’s father was my father. He was immediately suspicious so he-”

The Spider suddenly stopped talking and started laughing. The laughter began small, quiet giggles deep in his chest. It grew louder and louder and more manic and soon enough the Spider was cackling uncontrollably and gasping for air.

When the Spider finally sobered up he wiped his arm across his face, “I’m sorry. It's just that… I can't. I just can't. If only you could have seen your face. I got you good.”

“Huh?”

“Can't you tell when you are being spun a yarn, boy?” the Spider started laughing again.

If Johnny had free use of his arms he would have used them to try to strangle the Spider.

The Spider’s laughing halted entirely at once. He took a slow look around the vault, “Yeah, it is time for me to go.”

He pushed himself off the ground and ran out of the room. The Spider may have been in a hurry but not in so much of a hurry that he didn't close the vault door behind him.

Now Johnny was not technically alone. There were ten other hostages on the floor.

But all ten of those people were gagged.

In some ways, the Spider’s company, while fucked up, was preferable to this.

In some ways but not in every way.

Just when Johnny started to lose hope and began to wonder if he would be left here to die he heard the sound of metal creaking. The creaking grew louder and more annoying.

Ben had ripped the vault door off of its hinges and Johnny was simultaneously touched and wondering how much the bank was going to sue them for. They had been sued for that sort of thing before.

Reed and Sue were right behind him. The three of them ran towards him and made quick work of undoing his ropes (they would get to the other people later, Johnny was their first priority) muttering little “oh my god”s, “i love you”s, “thank god you’re okay”s, and “we found you”s.

The first thing Johnny said to them of course was, “Reed, did you prevent the universes from combining?”

Reed shook his head and Johnny panicked.

Reed must have noticed so he clarified, “Of course I did. I just can't believe- come here you.”

He opened his arms for a group hug.

Sue gestured downwards, “There will be time for hugs later. I think untying these people should come first.”

“You’re right.”

***

When Johnny got home he took a nice shower. After the shower he snuck out.

Reed, Ben, and Sue most certainly would not want him going out. Especially not after something like that happened.

It was just that his room, the entire Baxter Building actually, didn't feel big enough to think in. He had to go outside.

What they didn't know couldn't hurt them.

After a short while of wandering he came across Peter Parker legs dangling from a fire escape.

Peter’s glasses were nowhere to be seen. He was topless, shirt and sweater in a pool of fabric behind him. There was a bottle of whiskey by his side. In his hands were a needle and thread and the needle and thread were connected to- a giant gash in Peter’s side.

Johnny practically lept up the stairs to the fire escape, “What happened?”

Peter briefly looked up from his work, “Ask your friends.”

Johnny did not know what to make of that nonsense answer.

He made it up the last few steps, “Were you stabbed?”

Peter didn't answer.

Johnny sat down next to him, “Let me look at it.”

Peter scooted away, “Don't touch me.”

“My sister is a doctor,” he said as if he expected it to be comforting.

Peter glared at him, “And my mother was a spy. Doesn't make me one.”

Johnny felt that Peter had been unnecessarily facetious but he did understand that Peter was likely in a great deal of pain.

“You are seriously injured,” Johnny bit his lip, “Let me at least cauterize the wound.”

He knew very little about how cauterization actually worked other than the fact that he would probably be quite useful for it, but it was something to offer.

Peter shook his head, “It’s nothing I haven't dealt with before. Honestly my main concern is what my foster will do if he figures out that I’ve gotten into his whiskey again.”

Johnny looked over Peter’s torso and noticed the plethora of bruises and scars. There were a few gashes being held together with homemade stitches.

Suddenly a wave of horror washed over Johnny and all he wanted to do was hold him.

He must have made the opening motions implicating that he was going to try to hold Peter in his arms because Peter said, “Fuck off.”

Johnny did not, in fact, fuck off, but he didn't hold Peter either. He just sat there in silence while Peter continued his work.

When Peter finished up he put his shirt and sweater back on, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, climbed up a few stories, and crawled into a window like it was nothing.

He didn't say goodbye.

Johnny stayed where he was for quite some time after he was gone.

***

The police station somehow managed to be one of the most boring places in the universe despite being a goddamn police station.

The Captain must have sensed poor Johnny’s agitation because in the middle of the meeting he turned to Johnny and said, “My daughter and all of her friends are in the lobby. Go talk to them.”

Johnny was ready to take any excuse to leave that meeting so his response to that was to say, “Alright,” and walk right out.

In the lobby he found a group of seven teenagers, three of whom he had met before. Those three were Harry, Peter, and Cindy.

The other four he had never seen before in his life. They consisted of a blonde girl with a black headband, a girl in a mini skirt, a boy wearing a letterman jacket, and a girl with dyed red hair.

Peter and the girl with dyed red hair were deeply engaged in a discussion about a test they just had in English class on a book called The Importance of Being Ernest.

Hey, he had seen the Spider reading that earlier.

Weird.

Harry was the first to notice him and beckon him over, “Hey Johnny!”

Cindy looked up from her magazine, “Johnny! Come here!”

Peter and the girl with dyed red hair ended their conversation.

Peter merely waved at him.

Johnny walked over to them, “Hey guys. How's it going?”

The girl in the mini skirt seemed to be in disbelief, “Johnny Storm?”

Johnny smiled, “The one and only. And you are?”

“Liz. My name’s Liz,” she looked at her companions, “Why is Johnny Storm talking to us?”

Harry answered her, “Peter and I know him.”

Cindy piped in, “I also know him.”

The girl with dyed red hair raised an eyebrow, “And none of you ever brought that up before.”

“To be fair,” Peter said, “he isn't that great.”

Ignoring that remark he asked, “So who are the rest of you guys?”

The blonde girl with the black headband went first, “I’m Gwen Stacy.”

Johnny put a hand on his hip, “Oh so you’re the Captain’s daughter.”

Gwen smiled, “That's me alright.”

“Your dad noticed that I was bored and told me to come out here and talk to you and your friends.”

“I don't know if we can really count Flash as a friend,” Peter muttered.

The boy wearing a letterman jacket rolled his eyes.

The girl with dyed red hair straightened her posture as she said her name, “Mary Jane.”

As if she were worried that Johnny might laugh she added, “Yes, that's really my name.”

The boy in the letterman jacket went last, “The name’s Flash Thompson.”

Yeah, that made sense.

Harry had his ankles crossed, “What are you doing here?”

Johnny put a hand in his hair, “Ah, the Fantastic Four and the police are working out a plan to bring down the Spider together.”

Peter straightened out his glasses, “That sounds like a pretty big deal.”

Johnny shook his head, “Nah. This happens with every major super villain. We hardly know anything about the Spider.”

Peter leaned forward a little bit, “What exactly do you know about the Spider?”

“Don't answer that,” Harry said, “He’ll just report it to his boyfriend.”

Peter’s head snapped towards Harry’s direction, “What will it take to make you understand that the Spider is not my boyfriend?”

“Yeah, Harry. He's not worried about any boyfriend. He’s worried about his job security,” Mary Jane stroked Peter’s hair a little bit, “Don't worry. There will always be supervillains for you to take pictures of for money as long as there are trashy newspapers and trashy people out there.”

Johnny chuckled lightly, “Either way, don't worry. All we really know is that he's a white guy in his late twenties to mid thirties.”

Peter looked absolutely puzzled, “How do they know that?”

“The magic of criminal profiling,” Johnny did jazz hands.

“That's some magic alright,” Cindy took a sip of her tea.

“So,” Johnny inquired, “what are all of you doing hanging out at a police station.”

Liz looked over her nails, “We are waiting for Gwen’s dad to get out of a meeting.”

“We need him to settle a bet,” Flash explained.

Gwen elaborated on what Flash had said, “Mary Jane, Liz, Harry, and I all believe that my father is a Pepsi man.”

Cindy added, “While Peter, Flash, and I all maintain that he is a Coca Cola man.”

“Did you put actual money on this?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said, “Everybody bet a dollar.”

Johnny put his hand in his pocket, “I want in on this.”

***

Johnny's team lost the bet. In retrospect betting against the daughter of the subject on the debate about her father’s personal tastes was not a good idea.

Gwen claimed to have never seen her father drink soda before, but she still had the insider’s advantage.

***

Waiting at Midtown High for Dorrie had not worked the last time he tried it, but he would be darned if that meant he couldn't try again.

It was getting late. The last of the clubs and the extra classes would have to be getting out by this point from what Johnny assumed to be a legal and budgetary standpoint.

He was about to lose hope and give up when he finally saw her.

She had obviously seen him as she began walking faster.

“Hey! Dorrie! Wait up!”

She stopped, “I hoped you hadn't seen me.”

“I was waiting here specifically for you.”

She sighed, “What do you want Johnny?”

Johnny smiled with one hundred watts, “Wanna go to-”

She turned to fully face him, “We’re not together anymore.”

“Wanna get back together?” Hope was a nearly impossible thing to kill in the heart of the one and only Jonathan Lowell Spencer “Johnny” Storm.

“We’re over.” Dorrie began to walk away again.

Johnny followed, “Wait. Can you at least tell me why?”

Dorrie’s nose twitched in irritation, “I told you exactly why when I was dumping you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve talked to Peter and it doesn't seem like you two are in love enough to justify you leaving me for him.”

Dorrie’s eyes were wide but not in wonder, “You tracked down Peter Parker. Boy, you are obsessed.”

Johnny tried not to wince, “Found him by chance really.”

All the times he ran into after that were also by chance.

She rolled her eyes, “Right.”

“I’ve gotten the impression that he hardly knows you.”

“Fine,” Dorrie snapped, “I just tacked him on as an extra excuse because you weren't listening to me.”

Johnny thought he wouldn't be asking her this but the moment came and he couldn't help himself, “Are you gay?”

Dorrie came to a full stop, “What?”

Johnny repeated himself, “Are you gay?”

“No. I heard what you said loud and clear. Just… why would you think that? Why would you ask that?” The poor girl had become so distressed in such a short span of time.

“I don't know. I didn't give it much thought before now. Everyone that goes to your school that I’ve mentioned you to thought you were gay,” Johnny stopped to ponder, “Is that why you broke up with me? Because you’re gay?”

What Dorrie did with her mouth was in the shape of a smile but it was far too sad and bitter to call it one, “Alright. Do you want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“Yes,” Johnny would appreciate that very much.

She took a deep breath before starting, “I don't know Johnny. I don’t know. I don’t know if I like boys. I might like girls but ultimately I’m just as unsure about that as I am with boys. Maybe I like both. It's possible that I like neither. Am I a lesbian? I don't know. Am I bi? I don't know. Am I ace? I don't know. Am I straight? I don't really think so but maybe I am. I am just so confused right now and I need some time to figure things out.”

Her voice was almost shaking towards the end. Johnny wondered if he was the first person that she had opened up to about this until he felt conceited for entertaining the idea with where they were at now.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

If only she had been honest like this all along.

“I’m not done yet.”

Johnny was surprised, “Oh? Please continue.”

And she did, “But even if I was completely certain that I was one hundred percent heterosexual to the bone, or maybe bisexual, or- or exact labeling doesn't matter here actually. Even if I liked boys and knew for certain that I liked boys I still would have dumped you.”

If Johnny had been drinking something he would have done a spit take, “What?”

“Our breakup had nothing to do with my identity crisis. It had everything to do with the reasons I stated.”

Johnny did not know what to say to that. It was a lot to process. But it was stuff that he should have already begun processing a while ago. All of it (with the exception of her personal struggles because those were her business and she would have to deal with that alone) were things that Johnny should have started processing the moment she broke it off with him.

He did the only thing he could think to do.

He extended his hand, “I can respect that.”

Some tiny quantity of joy showed upon her face as she shook his hand, “That's all I need from you.”

Still feeling embarrassed Johnny said after a few moments of silence, “I would like to apologize for not respecting your decision sooner. It's just that… this is the first relationship I’ve been in and I thought of you as the one and the thought of letting you go was honestly terrifying.”

It still was terrifying.

“Go on. Apologize.”

“But-” Johnny was absolutely flabbergasted, “I just did. I just apologized.”

Dorrie shook her head, “No. You said you would like to apologize and you explained your behavior. Not once did you actually say you were sorry.”

Johnny felt that the sorry was implied, but she was still technically right.

“I’m sorry that I didn't respect your decision sooner.”

“Apology accepted,” something in Dorrie’s eyes softened, “And Johnny, there's no need to be so scared. There are plenty of fish in the sea, wonderful boys and girls. You’re bound to find one of them some day.”

And with that Doris “Dorrie” Evans walked on her way and out of Johnny’s life, probably forever (but possibly not forever at all, there was no way to truly tell the future, but more likely than not forever).

Of course Johnny was still in the hallway of a public high school that he did not attend after hours.

He slunk down the halls heading for the exit until he heard two voices from behind a closed door. They were faint enough that he could not make out what they were saying or why he might find those voices so familiar.

Curiosity killed the cat was a common cliche. Of course most people that used that age old phrase were unaware it had a second part; and satisfaction brought it back. The second part’s obscurity may have something to do with the fact that it isn't always true. Sometimes it was the truest thing in the whole wide universe, but other times- most other times, the only thing curiosity brought was trouble.

On some level Johnny knew that he should mind his business, it was probably completely irrelevant to his life. He was probably mistaken about those voices being vaguely familiar anyways.

Johnny slowly opened the door and poked his head in. The people were too engrossed in their conversation to notice him.

Said people were Peter and Flash.

Johnny still could not understand what they were saying but it was not because of any barrier blocking the sound. It was because Flash and Peter were not speaking English.

The only Spanish Johnny knew were random scattered words that basically everybody knew.

English (and in extension their childrens’ ability to speak it flawlessly) had been very important to Mary and Franklin Storm. They made a point to never speak Spanish to either of their kids, only occasionally speaking it to each other in hushed tones.

Sue took a few Spanish classes in college because she knew she could use that a second language to her advantage as a doctor (she also knew that it would be what the average hospital would automatically expect her to be able to do as a Mexican when hiring her as a doctor). She continued practicing over the years because she legitimately loved the Spanish language (and she would never admit this in the presence most company but she hated the way her parents had so intentionally kept it from her), and she could speak enough Spanish to be useful, but she was not quite fluent yet.

She was not sure if she ever would be actually fluent.

When she took Johnny in she felt like a hypocrite for not feeling any need to teach him Spanish (he knew this because she had told him this years later). It was just that Sue and Johnny could communicate in English perfectly well. If something wasn't broken, why fix it?

As a slightly younger teenager Johnny had found the idea of taking another language to be too much of a hassle and never picked one when it came time to register classes for the next year.

Usually the only regret he had about that decision was how lazy it was. He wouldn't die because he couldn't speak Spanish, and he could start to pick it up anytime he wanted (no matter how many times he put it off).

However, it was times like these that he really regretted that choice.

A high school Spanish class likely wouldn't have been the best place to start learning but it was better than absolutely nothing.

Despite the language barrier, however, Johnny could tell that they were probably talking about something very tense, important, and dramatic.

Flash was in the middle of shouting, “¡Él te golpea!”

He used his arms in quite the animated fashion. There was a desperation in the rasp of his voice that indicated that whatever Flash was saying was to the utmost importance to him. Johnny felt like he wanted- no, needed Peter to understand something. Something vital.

Peter did not respond. Instead he was staring down at the floor and at his shoes making no noise at all.

Flash said it again, “Él te golpea.”

Except this time as opposed to yelling with motion, he stood perfectly still and was so quiet that Johnny barely heard him. At this volume the desperation just sounded sad.

Peter was still looking at his shoes, “¿A quién le importa?”

He was quiet but direct.

For a split second Flash had a look on his face as if whatever Peter had said was personally offensive to him. For all Johnny knew perhaps whatever Peter had said actually was personally offensive to Flash.

“Me importas,” Flash moved much closer, much closer to Peter, “y quiero ayudarte.”

None of the disgust or outrage from Flash’s face just moments before has been present. He spoke with the sweetest softness that Johnny had never expected to see from a guy like Flash (although Johnny did not know Flash well enough to actually know what kind of guy he was, he only knew him well enough to guess as to Flash’s character based on the most shallow part of his surface level).

The way Flash had approached and spoken to Peter reminded Johnny of how a person would try to coax and or comfort a skittish kitten or a depressingly nervous puppy.

He gone very slowly, both in speaking and in entering into Peter’s personal space, as if he was afraid that if he moved faster or wrong in anyway than Peter might be startled and run off.

Peter finally looked up from the floor and straight into Flash’s eyes, “No debes.”

For those two words Peter’s voice sounded as if he was barely holding back hollow laughter. There was a hint of a smile on Peter’s face that had not been there before. This grin had a ironic gleam to it and was most definitely more about emotional distress and pain than happiness and general mirth.

Flash replied, “No digas eso.”

Flash had been serious throughout the entire conversation but there was a different form of seriousness at work here. His tone was sharper and more direct as if it was a command.

Well, almost a command. There was an edge of hope in his voice that made Johnny think that if it was a command Flash had no clue if it would be effective. No clue if Peter would actually do what he was told.

This was in direct contrast to Flash’s actions.

As he spoke he had put a hand in Peter’s hair and ran it through once. He brought his hand back up and let lay firmly amongst Peter’s curls.

Flash was leaning closer and Peter was letting him and it made Johnny wonder.

There was something unbearably intimate about the whole scene that both made Johnny crave it and want to throw up.

Maybe he was interpreting the whole thing incorrectly due to his own biased emotions. He had just begun processing a breakup. It wasn't like he knew what was actually going on with Peter and Flash’s conversation after all.

Johnny tried his best to tell himself that the jealousy gnawing in his stomach was of the general feeling of the moment. That all he wanted was to be that close to another person again.

That would be a lie by omission.

He had no right to the jealously he was really feeling.

In reality he was jealous of Flash specifically.

He wanted to be in Flash’s place. He wanted to be saying what Flash was saying to Peter (even though he hadn't the slightest clue what the fuck that was), he wanted to have his hand in Peter’s hair (which Johnny imagined to be soft), and he wanted to be leaning in closer and closer into Peter (and for Peter to let him).

He wanted Peter.

Any second now Peter and Flash would be kissing, Johnny just knew it. He could not bare to watch it and yet some stupid voyeuristic and likely masochistic part of him insisted that he must.

And then the unexpected happened. Flash suddenly stopped leaning closer to Peter. Their faces were still dangerously close; Peter could just move ever so slightly and his lips would crash onto Flash’s lips.

While he had stopped moving closer, Flash did not begin to pull away. He simply stayed exactly where he was.

Was this hesitation? Was this some sort of cosmic scheme to draw out the inevitable just to prolong Johnny’s suffering.

Instead of kissing Peter, Flash started speaking again, “Tengo un apartamento. Irás a vivir conmigo.”

While Johnny hadn't the slightest clue as to the rest of what Flash had just said (or the rest of what had been said throughout the entire conversation), but Johnny would be pretty damn shocked if apartamento didn't mean apartment.

Did Flash just propose that they should take the conversation elsewhere?

Oh god, Flash just proposed that they should take the conversation elsewhere.

Even Johnny knew what that meant. A beckoning to a private location like that was an invitation for things to get serious. Physically serious.

Now Johnny wasn't sure about how he felt about the whole idea that engaging in intercourse made a relationship serious. Strangers had sex, just as people who care more about each other than anything else may never touch.

But the connotations remained no matter what Johnny felt about them and the word serious suited the context well enough.

Time froze for Johnny Storm and he began seeing what would happen next.

He saw Peter swallow nervously but then slowly nod.

He saw Flash smile and lead him out of the room (despite Johnny being in the only exit from the room he himself was nowhere to be seen in this part of the premonition).

He saw them walking down the street together. They were less than a centimeter away from holding hands and yet they didn't bridge the gap.

He saw Flash stumble with the keys when they got to the door, and he saw Peter put his hands in his pockets during the wait.

He saw Peter go into the apartment first and Flash close the door behind them.

He saw them pressed up against each other on the wall.

He saw them rolling on the floor not quite making it to anywhere else.

He saw them on the couch contorted into a position that couldn't have been comfortable because the couch was too small and really could be classified as a chair if one wanted to call it that.

He saw them under the covers.

He saw them moving against each other fully clothed.

He saw zippers and buttons being undone. He saw clothes being thrown to the side.

He saw Peter flat on his back eyes clenched shut.

He saw Peter on his knees brown eyes wide open and staring up at Flash waiting for a reaction.

He saw hands holding hands, hands tugging at the hems of shirts, hands moving down into waistbands.

He saw an arching back.

He saw Flash shout out curses bound to wake up the neighbors.

He saw Flash relax and let out a moan so soft it may have been a sigh, “Like that, yes, just like that.”

He saw mouths on mouth, mouths on necks, mouths up against hips.

He saw knees on either side of thighs, knees wrapped around waists, knees pressed into the chest.

He saw a display of affectionate violence.

He saw a display of brutal tenderness.

He saw them make love.

He saw them fuck.

Johnny saw all of these images all at once, and it felt like a dagger was piercing his heart and soul. It hurt, it truly hurt so terribly bad, but he couldn't stop himself from seeing it.

Time started itself again just as it had stopped itself earlier. Johnny bit his lip in anticipation.

Peter jerked away from Flash, “Hemos hablado de esto.”

His tone was melancholy and resigned with a dash of bitterness.

Johnny immediately felt a surge of relief. Heroin could not possibly feel as good as the sense of victory making his heart fly at that moment.

The only thing that even slightly spoiled Johnny’s good mood was the sliver of indecision his ears may have picked up on.

Flash did not attempt to regain the space he had just lost. He did the opposite actually; he backed away a little bit.

Flash was shaking his head a little bit, to an almost imperceivable degree, “Y te mereces algo mejor.”

Peter was back to studying his shoes and the floor like he had been when Johnny first peaked in, “No sé.”

Johnny suddenly felt very guilty for intruding on this moment. It was a private moment. He should not of seen it at all.

He did not back out the door and shut it all quiet so that he could pretend to have never been there in in the first place. Pretend that he never saw what he saw.

Instead he threw the door wide open and announced his presence, “Hey guys!”

The motivation behind that choice of action was more selfish than Johnny would ever admit. It was just that they did not seem to be in a great place in the conversation and Johnny did not want them to be able to work back up to a better spot.

Peter had the expression of a deer in the headlights, the light shining off of his glasses added to the effect quite marvelously.

Meanwhile Flash looked completely calm. In fact there was something about his demeanor that welcomed Johnny’s presence more than anything else, which was weird. Very, very weird.

Peter managed to stutter out, “¿Cuánto has oído?”

Johnny didn't respond due to the fact that he had no clue what Peter had just asked of him.

He was going to explain that but Peter started talking again, “No es grave. Flash está siendo dramático.”

Peter was frantic. He spoke so quickly that even if he was speaking English Johnny doubted he would have been able to understand it.

Flash, however, had been able to understand Peter perfectly judging from the collected yet agitated form his response took, “No soy dramático. Él te golpea.”

Peter looked Johnny in the eye as if he was beckoning him to help him with whatever was being said between him and Flash, “Sólo cuando está borracho.”

The speed was gone but the frantic energy remained.

Something inside Flash snapped and Johnny could see the moment it happened. There was something about his expression that gave it away.

He could not tell if the way Flash was holding his shoulders was in anger, sadness, or pity. Perhaps it was all three. Perhaps it was none of the above.

Flash raised his voice, “¡Él está siempre borracho, Peter! ¡Él está siempre borracho!”

It would take an idiot not to realize that the conversation was getting messy fast (although it was entirely possible that the conversation had been messy all along).

Johnny decided to stop gaping at them as if he was a goldfish and to say something to them, “Uh, I can't understand Spanish like at all so I have no clue what's going on like in the slightest. Did I interrupt something important because like I could go if-?”

“No. No, don't go. Don't leave. Nothing important here. Our conversation was on entirely trivial matters. Not important at all,” the tenseness absolutely melted off of Peter.

The smile adorning his face may have been genuine this time.

Flash on the other hand looked vaguely disappointed, “I wouldn't call it trivial, and I think it's pretty important.”

Peter made a dismissive hand gesture in Flash’s direction, “But not so important that we can't drop it and come back to it another day.”

Flash put his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, “Just know that this conversation isn't over.”

“It never is,” Peter said.

Flash shrugged, “That's because I care. I don't know why that is so hard for you to understand or accept.”

“Maybe it was the years and years of bullying,” Peter muttered sardonically but Flash was already strolling out the door.

Peter looked the door for a good moment before turning his attention completely to Johnny, “Did you have something you wanted to talk about with me?”

The honest answer would be no. Johnny did not even realize he would encounter Peter that day much less be able to speak with him.

Peter continued, “Did you have something you wanted to talk about with Flash? Because if so he shouldn't be to hard to chase down if you start now?”

Johnny shook his head and lied, “No, I wanted to talk with you.”

Peter leaned forward ever so slightly eagerly awaiting whatever Johnny was about to propose to him.

Johnny put a hand on his face hoping that maybe obscuring a part of his face might also obscure the improv, “Well I, uh, wanted to go, um, visit the arcade, but like it just isn't the same alone. Wanna come with me?”

In that instant Peter wore the purest smile Johnny had ever seen, “Okay. That sounds like fun.”

“Cool. Let's go,” was what Johnny actually said. It was what he said to the outside world. On the inside he was doing a couple different dances, fist pumping the whole way through.

Peter took his hand, “Lead the way.”

The whole way to the arcade all Johnny could think about was the fact that they were holding hands they were holding hands they were holding hands.

He wasn't sure if Peter meant anything by it, he accepted that he probably didn't, but there was still something so powerful about the act of holding hands.

As they entered the arcade Johnny said, “Welcome to paradise.”

He still felt all of the joy associated with the location from when he was a little boy.

“Paradise?” Peter teased, “Don't be so sure if that.”

Of course Johnny was so sure of the idea that if he ended up in heaven it would resemble this arcade.

They were still holding hands, “So how does this place work?”

Johnny nearly fell backwards, “Are you implying that you have never been here before?”

“I haven't.”

That was terribly, horrifically tragic.

Pity filled Johnny’s heart, “Your childhood must have been terrible.”

“That was mostly because I was an orphan,” Peter tilted his head a little to the side and shrugged, “I doubt not ever going to an arcade made much of an impact.”

Johnny let go of Peter’s hand so that he could throw his arm around his shoulders, “That's where you are wrong.”

Knowing that Peter had never experienced any of these things before Johnny took extra care to make sure to show Peter everything, the dying video game machines from the eighties (Peter seemed very invested in saving them despite only meeting them for the first time that day), the Dance Dance Revolution machine (Peter fell over more than once), those games that spit out tickets based on how well your timing for pressing a button was (Peter was too good at those; it was disturbing), air hockey (Johnny managed to get hit in the face with the puck), everything.

Johnny saved what he thought to be the best for last.

Skee ball.

“What exactly is the objective of this game?” Peter asked after spending a little too long staring at it.

“You’re supposed to get the ball in one of the topmost holes, preferably one of the ones off to the side,” Johnny explained.

Peter nodded solemnly. He picked up a ball and threw. It hit the cage above the holes.

Johnny promptly laughed, “No. Not like that. You’re supposed to roll it along the little platform, like bowling.”

Johnny came up behind Peter turning his body into a guiding frame for Peter, “Here let me show you.”

He guided the motion of Peter’s arm. The ball rolled smoothly down the ramp and into the center most hole.

Tickets came out of the slot.

Peter didn't seem happy, “We didn't win.”

Johnny rested his head on Peter’s shoulder, “What do you mean we didn't win? Tickets came out didn't they?”

The adorability of Peter’s frown made Johnny feel terrible, “Yeah, but we didn't make it to a top hole.”

“We still did better than hitting the cage from above, babe.”

Johnny hoped with all of his heart that calling him babe wasn't crossing any lines. He was already working hard at resisting the temptation to turn his head slightly and kiss Peter along his jawline which would most definitely be crossing all the lines.

If any lines were crossed Peter didn't show it, “What do we do with all these tickets?”

Johnny’s eyes lit up, “I can't believe I didn't tell you already.”

Johnny tore off their newly won tickets from the skee ball machine and raced to the prize desk trusting that Peter would follow.

He showed Peter the system in which different prizes could be bought for a certain number of tickets.

They had the exact amount of tickets needed to buy a teddy bear. The teddy bear was on the smaller side but it wasn't too small to cuddle. It was brown and fuzzy and if it were a real baby bear proportion wise it would be a chubby one.

Johnny handed over the tickets, the man behind the desk handed over the bear to Johnny who then pushed it into Peter’s hands.

Peter tried to give it back, “You don't have to give me anything.”

Johnny smiled softly, “I don't have to. I want to. Has anyone ever won you anything before?

Peter looked down at the teddy bear instead of answering.

He put the teddy bear in his backpack (which for the split second it was open Johnny could have sworn he saw nothing but green), “Thank you.”

As they walked away from the prize desk, “I’m kinda hungry. There's a burger place next door. Wanna go grab a bite?”

“Okay,” Peter quickened up his pace, “I’m paying.”

“Why?” Johnny shook his head, “There's no need. I can pay.”

“I can afford to pay for it. I have the money on me,” Peter said and it sounded like he was very unused to saying those sentences.

“Yeah, but I’m the one that asked. It was my idea,” Johnny argued.

“But you already got me the bear,” Peter pointed out.

“But-”

A wicked grin overtook Peter’s face, “First one there gets to pay.”

He took off sprinting.

“Oh, you’re on,” Johnny bolted after him.

Johnny somewhat expected to win this one despite Peter’s head start due to being in really good shape and actually knowing where the establishment was, but alas Peter won.

They sat in a booth. Peter picked was conflicted between the side he could see the door from and the side he could see the entire restaurant from (ultimately he chose the later albeit reluctantly).

Peter ordered a burger and fries with an Oreo milkshake. Johnny ordered the strawberry waffles to take advantage of the fact that this place technically didn't have a cutoff time for breakfast foods like so many other places did (here it was simply frowned upon to order breakfast for dinner but you still technically could).

As the waitress took their menus Johnny asked, “So, you and Flash?”

Peter was looking at his backpack which was on the seat next to him, “What about me and Flash?”

“Are you two a thing?” This was the moment of truth.

“Me and Flash, Flash and I, together?” Peter returned his attention to Johnny, “Oh god no. Where would you get the impression?”

“Uh,” Johnny’s heart was still working overtime despite the relief that came with that answer, “From what I saw of that conversation it seemed like-”

Peter shook his head, “Look what was going on in that conversation was definitely complicated, but it wasn't that sort of complicated. Flash and I are just… actually it’s difficult to put a label on us right now, but that's not because we’re skirting the line between platonic and romantic interaction. That's because we only recently stopped being enemies.”

Since he was already asking Peter questions he figured that he might as well, “So a little while back I saw you walking with Harry and he seemed-”

“Relapse,” was Peter’s answer to the question that Johnny hadn't fully asked yet.

“Relapse?”

Their drinks arrived, an Oreo milkshake for Peter and water for Johnny.

“Uh huh,” Peter took a sip of his milkshake, “When his mom died he picked up a heroin habit.”

That was certainly surprising news.

Johnny didn't say anything so Peter continued, “It was a habit that all of us thought he had finally managed to kick. You can imagine how I felt when I stumbled across him using that night. I was taking him back to his home.”

Johnny gulped down some of his water, “He just never seemed like that sort of person.”

“And what is that sort of person like?” Peter asked.

It was a good question.

Their food arrived.

Johnny was liberally pouring syrup over his waffles, “Gee, uh, I don't know. I guess just not Harry.”

Peter picked up his cheeseburger, “That's what a lot of people think.”

Johnny was cutting up his waffles which he probably should have done before he drowned them in syrup, “And how about you?”

Peter took a bite of his cheeseburger, “What do you mean how about me?”

“What's going on with you?”

Peter shrugged, “I am leading a perfectly normal and happy existence.”

Johnny stopped in the middle of cutting his waffles, “Let's not forget that I saw you stitching up your own side.”

Peter dipped a fry in his milkshake, “And I told you at the time that my main concern was the foster finding out that I got into his whiskey again. He didn't find out, by the way.”

Johnny ate a piece of his heavenly waffles, “Why do you take his whiskey if you’re so worried he’ll find out?”

“It makes for a convenient antiseptic.”

“And how is the stolen whiskey a bigger concern than the injury? You should have gone to the hospital!” Johnny didn't mean to raise his voice at the end there, it just sorta happened.

Peter was finishing up his cheeseburger, “Trust me when I say that injury was not a big deal. Going to the hospital for something like that would be petty and annoying.”

Johnny swallowed some of his food, “We have different definitions of petty and annoying. You see, I’d say necessary and life saving.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I’m not dead, am I?”

Johnny waited a moment to answer for dramatic effect, “Keep up whatever you’re doing and you will be.”

Peter sighed, “I’m not doing anything. I’m fine. I will be fine.”

Johnny was about to object to that when Peter said, “So what's it like being a superhero?”

It was attempt to change the subject. That much was obvious.

Something inside Johnny told him that he shouldn't let Peter wriggle out of this so easily, but another thing inside Johnny told him that wasn't going to break any ground there anyways so he said, “It's like so many things all at once, y’know.”

Peter leaned back, “Well. I really wouldn't know.”

They discussed Johnny’s adventures with the rest of the Fantastic Four for the remainder of the meal.

When the check came Peter paid entirely in cash from what seemed to be random parts of his backpack.

There was nothing particularly romantic about the outside of the restaurant. The atmosphere was absolutely ordinary, but that's not how it felt to Johnny.

An entire night’s worth of holding back all broke and suddenly Johnny had grabbed Peter’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. The glasses got in the way a little bit, but the thing that Johnny was really paying attention to was that Peter was kissing him back.

Peter was kissing him back.

Peter was kissing him back.

Did such madness and magic ever have to end?

The answer to the above question was unfortunately yes.

After that first kiss broke apart Johnny and Peter just looked at each other faces close together.

Peter was laughing. He had been laughing softly throughout the kiss, Johnny felt it, and he continued to laugh after it.

At first Johnny assumed Peter’s laughter was an expression of joy, but he slowly began to register a coldness in it.

He put a hand to Johnny’s cheek, “I’m sorry. There's someone else.”

Peter was still laughing as he walked away.

Johnny was left standing there stunned. Did that really just happen?

Who the fuck could that someone else be?

Was it Flash Thompson?

No. Peter had told him that he didn't have anything going on with Flash and Johnny still believed him.

Who could it be?

Dorrie- no.

Could it be Harry- Wait.

Johnny remembered some things that Harry had said that Peter had vehemently denied.

Oh my god, Harry was right.

Harry’s crazy conspiracy theory was right; Peter was dating the Spider.

It made perfect sense and it explained so much.

It would explain the cash money. It would explain how Peter got all those pictures of the Spider. It would explain the bruises.

He had to find the Spider which that night proved easier said than done.

It took far more time of wandering around Queens than usual, but it did eventually happen.

The Spider was standing on the ledge of a tall building. He appeared to be brooding.

Johnny landed behind him, “Peter Parker.”

The Spider froze up, “What did you just say?”

“Peter Parker,” Johnny said slower this time, “Boricua from Queens. Wavy hair. Glasses. Photographer. Nerd.”

The only thing the Spider said was, “Oh god.”

Johnny walked up so he was standing right next him on the ledge, “He is too good for you.”

The Spider twisted his body towards him, “Wait, what?”

Of course the Spider had that much of an ego that he would be so taken aback by such a statement.

Johnny continued, “Peter is good and kind and he shouldn't be dating you because you’re terrible and evil and treat him poorly and what are you like twice his age.”

The Spider let out a deep breath that Johnny hadn't noticed he was holding, “That's a lot of conclusions you’ve jumped to there.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, “It isn't jumping to conclusions if you have substantial reasoning to believe it.”

Johnny was pretty sure they called it deduction at that point.

“I think that assuming that Peter Parker is a good boy is one hell of a conclusion,” the Spider’s tone was sly.

Johnny didn't like that, “You’ve been corrupting him!”

The Spider did not lose his temper like Johnny just had, “You could say that, but it's been a great deal of fun.”

“You are a despicable creature,” Johnny was thoroughly disgusted by the Spider’s last comment.

“Perhaps,” the Spider drawled out, “but what makes you think you’d be oh so much better for him, loverboy?”

***

Johnny wasn't able to sleep that night. He couldn't stop thinking about the relationship between Peter Parker and the Spider.

He couldn't stop thinking about what part cash may or may not play in the relationship.

He couldn't stop thinking about what the Spider might think about Peter’s friends.

He couldn't stop thinking about how Peter might have kissed the Spider and if it was different from the way Peter kissed him.

He couldn't stop thinking about how they might of met. Did they meet as people before the whole Spider thing or was it Peter’s job what brought them together? Was Peter’s job something set up by the Spider in general?

He couldn't stop thinking about if Peter knew who the Spider was.

He couldn't stop thinking about how much older the Spider was than Peter and how much scarier as well.

He couldn't stop thinking about how serious the relationship may or may not have been. Were they in an emotionally committed relationship or merely a sexual one? Something else entirely?

He couldn't stop thinking about how long this might have been going on.

He couldn't stop thinking about how the Spider probably treated Peter, what the Spider would be like in a romantic relationship in general.

He couldn't stop thinking of Peter on the fire escape stitching himself up and feeling sick knowing that the Spider most likely had something to do with it.

This experience was similar to Johnny’s thoughts about Peter and Flash hooking up earlier except it was much, much worse.

***

Johnny was not present at the scene of the crime, but the photos were already online.

He wasn't sure of the legality of photos from ongoing investigation that opened that morning already plastered across the internet.

He decided not to worry about it.

The pictures were absolutely brutal. Blood was on the goddamn ceiling.

Johnny was thankful he hadn't eaten breakfast before he saw the pictures with the body in them. He would have thrown up.

The one thing that was in every headline was a single suspect: the Spider.

***

“How could you do something like this?” Johnny shouted at the Spider.

The Spider had a cup of coffee in his hand, “I’ve done a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific dear.”

“Wescott.”

“Oh,” the Spider sounded a little caught off guard, “It was quite simple really. I took a knife and I-”

Johnny interrupted him, “I know how you did it. I just don't understand how a person could do something like that?”

The Spider scoffed, “How could you so scandalized by this? Wescott is hardly the first person I’ve killed. You know that.”

Johnny had to stop his hands from shaking, “It's just so terrible.”

The Spider shrugged, “You think it's grotesque. I think it's something a little more akin to art. Let's agree to disagree.”

Johnny subconsciously balled his hands into fists, “You murdered a man in horrific fashion.”

“How did you know it was me anyways?”

“You drew a picture of a spider in the mirror with his blood.”

“I’ll admit that was extra,” Spider sighed, “If it is any consolation Wescott wasn't exactly on the side of the angels.”

“That shouldn't matter! You shouldn't be killing people.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree again,” the Spider set down his coffee, “Anyways I know that your little friend Peter condones of this.”

“How could he?” Johnny couldn't imagine that.

The Spider was almost certainly smiling, “I think you might find that killing Wescott may have even been his idea.”

***

“Hey guys,” Johnny said as we walked into the living room, “I’m gonna be bringing a friend over later that I want you guys to meet.”

Reed folded his newspaper, “Is this friend a potential romantic interest?”

At least they were, “Yes, but-”

“Are they Jewish?” Ben asked.

Johnny was used to that question for Ben asked it about every single person Johnny might have ever liked (and when he couldn't for some reason or other Sue would ask for him), “I literally never asked. Maybe. That's beside the point. We’re just friends right now and that's beside the point. I’m bringing him over because I’m worried about him.”

Sue took a sip from her mug, “Go on.”

Johnny tried to put it in the gentlest terms possible, “He's been… seeing this guy, and I don't think it's a good idea.”

Reed stretched across the coffee table for his own mug, “You don't have to approve of everyone your friends will date. I know that can be hard to accept, especially when you have a crush on that friend-”

Johnny realized he had to be blunt, “He's dating the Spider.”

Sue’s eyes widened, “So you want us to counsel him.”

“Talk some sense into the kid,” Ben added.

“Yeah,” Johnny glanced up briefly, “but like go easy on him.”

***

The meeting was going quite well.

Peter, as it turned out, was Jewish so Ben was happy.

Reed and Peter were in the middle of bonding over nerdy science stuff when Sue interrupted them, “So Peter…”

Peter pivoted his body to face her, “Yes?”

Sue scooted closer to him, “Johnny told us about the nature of your relationship with the Spider.”

There was a look of horror on Peter’s face. He knew what was coming.

Ben moved from his chair to be closer to the conversation, “Now he might be tellin’ ya all sorts of things to butter you up, but buttering you up is all he's doing. He probably tells you that you’re so mature, and even if he really thinks you’re mature for your age, you gotta wonder: if he likes mature people why isn't he with someone his own age or older even?”

Peter was smiling but it easy to tell it was out of hysteria, “Look, he doesn't tell me anything of the sort.”

Sue put a hand on his shoulder that he immediately shrugged away, “Does he give you things like money? Don't think he's giving you those things because he loves you. He's using you. He's just trying to keep you dependent.”

“Similar thing going on with those tiny little gestures done solely to gain your approval,” Ben added, “Don't forget that man is a predator.”

When Peter made absolutely no response to what either of them said Reed said, “I took the liberty of looking into his latest victim’s criminal record-”

“Oh my god, we’re not discussing that,” Peter sounded like a migraine was coming on.

Reed leaned back, “I think it is worth analyzing how bad experiences from the past might be influencing us to make poor decisions in our present.”

Peter put a hand to his forehead, “I don't.”

Sue said, “I want you to know that this is a safe space for you to say anything you need to.”

Peter looked directly at her, “Is this a safe space for me to tell you all to fuck off?”

Johnny shook his head, “No. Probably not.”

“If you have to,” Sue tried to reassure but she clearly didn't mean it.

“Look guys,” Peter raked a hand through his hair, “Everything you’ve been saying are great things to say to a kid in a risky situation, but they really don't apply to me.”

Reed scrunched his eyebrows, “What makes you think that your situation is any different? Any less serious? The Spider is dangerous.”

Peter shook his head, “I can't,” he laughed, “I just can't do this.”

He stormed out and Johnny followed suit, “Wait.”

Peter spun back on his heel, “You can't fix me. You can't redeem me. I am not your Eponine.”

Johnny scratched his chin, “What's an Eponine?”

“God, don't you read?”

Johnny scoffed, “Of, of course I read. I just haven't read Eponine.”

That was a really weird title for a book. Eponine, did that word even mean anything?

“Eponine is a character, not a title.”

Oh.

“I knew that,” Johnny lied.

“Lying isn't a good look on you babe,” Peter smiled bitter and teasing, “I would have at least pegged you to be an untalented theater kid.”

“I’m not untalented!” Johnny would not allow his honor to be stung like that.

The smile became a smirk, “Right.”

“I’m not.”

“What kind of self respecting theater kid doesn't know Les Miserables?”

“Huh?”

Peter was clearly stopping himself from rolling his eyes, “Les Mis.”

“Oh! That!” Johnny knew what Peter was talking about now, “I haven't really gotten around to that yet. I know about the whole ‘do you hear the people sing’ thing. The French Revolution, man.”

“It's not about the French Revolution.”

Johnny was shocked, “Really?”

“It takes place over a long period of time but most of it, that song especially, is after the Revolution.”

“Wait, what does Les Mis have to do with reading?”

“There was a book.”

“They based a book off of that?”

“Nevermind. It was a poorly thought out metaphor in the first place,” Peter looked ready to scream, “I think this interaction alone has provided evidence as to why we wouldn't work out far greater than any situation with the Spider.”

***

Johnny tried not to scream, “How did you get in here?”

That was a good question. It was directed at the Spider who was in Johnny’s bed.

The Spider didn't move, “Get better window locks if you want to keep me out so badly.”

“Why, why are you here?”

The Spider sat up, “When you accused me of dating Peter Parker I didn't deny it, I even played along, because it was so ridiculous it was almost funny, but it's become… this is a bad idea.”

“What is a bad idea?”

“It's time to bite the bullet I guess,” the Spider revealed his face.

It took a few moments for Johnny to understand what he was seeing and when he did he fell to his knees on the floor like a character in some soap opera might have.

Peter Parker was not dating the Spider.

Peter Parker was the Spider.

Johnny said the first thing that came into his mind, “There's some good in you. I know it. I can see it. There's a light inside.”

The Spider- no, Peter shook his head, “You don't honestly believe that.”

Johnny kinda wanted to cry, this was a lot to process, and hoped it didn't show in his voice, “You should have more faith in yourself.”

“That's not the issue here.”

“Let me help you,” Johnny sounded like he was begging and he knew it.

It was humiliating.

Peter sneered, “From what I understand you’d take any excuse to get down on your knees.”

“I-”

Peter put his mask back on, “And you should really take that up with the leader of your silly little team and leave me out of it.”

Peter left out the window, and Johnny didn't follow.

***

Johnny still believed that two days was a good amount of time to let a situation cool.

So he waited two days before going over the Peter’s apartment. He had never been there before although he had known where is was for quite sometime.

An unkempt man of his thirties or forties answered the door, “What do you want?”

The man was holding a beer bottle by the neck.

“I’m here to see Peter Parker, may-”

“I’ll see if he's home. Kid is usually out doing god knows what, probably cheating on you or shooting up in a gutter somewhere. I can't control him,” the man turned his head over his shoulder, “Pete!”

A voice, presumably Peter, shouted back from another room, “What?”

“He’s home,” the man told Johnny as if he thought he was an idiot before going back to yelling, “Your boyfriend’s here!”

Peter quickly appeared behind the man.

His face fell when he saw Johnny, “That's not Flash.”

Johnny took offense to being called a ‘that’.

The man shook his head, “How do you expect me to know that? All you spics look the same.”

Well, thought he had been offended by being referred to as a ‘that’ but what the man had just said was far worse.

Before Johnny had the chance to reply to the man Peter had grabbed Johnny’s arm and was dragging him into his room.

The man yelled, “Have fun!”

After Peter closed the door behind him he said, “Yeah. I know. Wes sucks. Now what are you doing here?”

Johnny sat down on Peter’s bed, “I thought you said Flash wasn't your boyfriend.”

That wasn't why Johnny was there but it felt suddenly very urgent to him.

Peter sat down next to him, “He's not. I’m single. Wes just thinks he is because he's here so often. Wes even thinks he's responsible for Snitch.”

Johnny tilted his head, “Snitch?”

“Oh,” Peter smiled, “That's right. I never told you. That's what I named the bear you won me because she was poorly made and will eventually need repair and snitches get stitches.”

Johnny pouted, “Flash shouldn't get credit for Snitch.”

Peter shrugged, “I can't control what Wes thinks.”

The silence was awkward.

Johnny bit his lip, “I can't understand why you would tell me there's someone else if you are single.”

“I was making fun of you,” Peter said as if it was nothing, “I know Dorrie said that there was someone else, me, when she dumped you and the idea to rub it in wouldn't go away. I didn't realize you’d come away with the Osborn hypothesis and think I was dating myself.”

Johnny threw a pillow at him, “You’re mean.”

Peter hugged the pillow to his chest, “It comes with being a supervillain.”

“I still think you could be a hero.”

Peter looked wistful, “In another world perhaps, but I think I’m better off as a villain.”

“Why?” Johnny couldn't understand, “Why would you think that?”

Peter laid back a little, “When you’re a superhero you have to abide by what the world thinks of as right and wrong. As a villain you don't have to care about any moral code but your own. You can have fun.”

Johnny leaned against Peter, “You can still do what you personally believe is right or fun as a hero.”

Peter didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, “I enjoy hurting people way too much.”

There was nothing Johnny could say to that so he didn't.

Peter straightened his posture, “You should try being a villain.”

Johnny shot up, “No.”

Peter smiled lazy, “Come on. Haven't you ever wanted to burn down a building?”

Johnny sat back down next to Peter, “Come to the light side. Be with me. You could be Eponine after all. Redeemed by love. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you read Les Mis?”

“Sparknotes. What, you can't expect me to read the whole thing. That would take forever. It's longer than War and Peace.”

Peter didn't seem to care, “So? What do you have against Tolstoy?”

“That book is famous for being too long to read,” Johnny stressed.

“I read it once to prove a point to the Green Goblin.”

“Of fucking course you have read it. Where do you find the time?”

“I don't sleep.”

The both of them erupted into laughter at that despite the fact that it wasn't very funny at all.

When they had calmed down Johnny said, “Come on. Be with me. I love you.”

And he really felt that he did love Peter.

Peter later laid himself across Johnny’s lap, “I’ll probably be moving in with someone else soon. I’m not sure how it’ll all work out. A boy from school who has his own apartment and worries about me a lot. What if I fall into something with him?”

“You don't have to fall in love with him.”

“No,” Peter shook his head, “I might not fall in love with him at all. But I could. I easily could if I let myself. Or what if I meet another super villain tomorrow and we just click?”

“What is the point of this?”

“We’re of two different worlds. Have two different lives. There is no way to tell what the future holds, but I just can't picture you as a part of mine.”

“I can,” Johnny said with conviction.

“I can't,” Peter looked up at him with sad eyes, “We’ll always have Snitch.”

Johnny kissed Peter on the forehead not wanting to actually have to say goodbye.

As he walked out of the apartment he held his head high and he didn't feel terrible.

Despite what Peter said Johnny knew that one day he would get that boy. One day.

He didn't know how. He didn't know when.

All he knew was that he wasn't going to be losing hope.

**Author's Note:**

> If there was anything that wasn't tagged that you think should have been please let me know
> 
> Thank you so much for reading


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